Unintended Cultivator

Book 13: Chapter 2: Soon Enough

Book 13: Chapter 2: Soon EnoughSomething Sen had learned was that battling spirit beasts and battling other human beings were both fundamentally different and oddly similar. It just depended on which part of the battle one focused on. The differences were particularly stark at the beginning. The number of sapient spirit beasts was, apparently, trivial compared with the total number of spirit beasts. That very limitation made complex strategies difficult to carry out. Sapient spirit beasts could exert some level of control over their non-sapient counterparts. But the best they could do in most cases was simply pointing a group of non-sapient spirit beasts at the enemy and unleashing them.

Once that largely mindless horde closed with the enemy, their natural instincts, superior strength, and even abilities were often enough to give them a real chance at victory. They might take staggering losses, but they seemed to have the numbers to endure those kinds of losses. Just as importantly, every victory they secured was a psychological blow to every human being with the capacity to understand what the loss meant. It was a step closer to annihilation. The cumulative toll of those losses and that knowledge was a weapon in its own right.

By contrast, human beings generally excelled at strategy and tactics at the beginning of any battle. They’d employ feints, deception, and use weapons as both a means of killing and of disruption. Few things were likely to throw off an enemy army more effectively than having stones big enough to crush a man falling out of the sky. If the defending army was well-managed, they could even take advantage of those disruptions to create even bigger disruptions. They might not launch an all-out assault, but they could send out a modestly sized group of soldiers to turn disruption into chaos. Out of such chaos, a good general could seize the momentum and, ultimately, the battle itself.

Of course, deception and tricks could only carry an army so far. The tricks would run out. The deceptions would become transparent. Then comes the middle of the battle. That part of the battle was just groups of people or spirit beasts hurling themselves at each other in a barely controlled frenzy of steel, blood, and the will to survive. It had been difficult for Sen to watch this part at first because he understood exactly how little the leaders on either side could control the outcome when thousands were fighting. Success or failure largely fell on the people assigned to lead small groups. How well would they command their underlings? How much discipline could they maintain in the face of so much death?

It was only when the tides finally began to shift in one direction or the other that a battle entered its final stage. That was when the differences between the spirit beasts and the humans all but vanished. As the possibility of death slowly turned into the certainty of it, panic set in. Wills broke. At that moment, human or spirit beast, it didn’t matter. They tried to flee to anywhere that might prolong their lives for even a few moments longer. Sen knew that feeling. That desperation to live. The willingness to do just about anything if it would extend his life for another few seconds. He had even managed to claw his way to things that vaguely resembled victories by doing that. But those had been very different situations. Times when one man could find victory that way.

The battlefield was a different kind of place, though. When armies tried to flee that way, it heralded only one thing. Slaughter. The only difference was being cut down from behind instead of from in front. When the battlefield and the prize were both a walled city, there wasn’t anywhere for the defenders to run. Not really. Not for long. Of course, none of that accounted for the inclusion of cultivators with an army. Most cultivators wouldn’t lower themselves to fight with mere mortals. Sen had cured the cultivators marching with him of the illusion that they decided who they would or wouldn’t fight with. Some of them were true conscripts who had been marching with him since he’d first left the kingdom.

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The foolish cultivators who had attacked his city were in that group. So were most of the Lunar Tiger Sect that he’d dissolved. He’d added cultivators to those ranks with every city, extracting lifelong vows of fealty to his family that were witnessed by the heavens. He doubted there even was a sect that could hope to stand against him now. He had, almost through pure force of will, made them integrate with the mortal army. That had opened up possibilities that just didn’t exist for a normal mortal army.

After all, what did his army need to fear from catapults when cultivators could bat those projectiles aside or reinforce shields? Walls became far less secure when earth cultivators could make the very stone crumble away. Being on top of those walls was no protection when air cultivators could direct and concentrate poisons around archers or those manning ballistae. That was all before someone like Sen himself or Master Feng took the field. Sen could rain down lightning or fire on such a scale that it became a scene from one of the hells. Master Feng could simply wipe away entire armies with countless wind blades. Of course, both of them had no choice but to restrain themselves. Otherwise, their unleashed spiritual sense or killing intent became as much a threat to friend as foe.

Yet, that forced integration had done what Sen wanted. It had shortened the amount of time it took for him to capture a city. In most cases, he never needed to raise his own hand in those battles. The mortal generals took command and, by and large, were competent enough to see the battles through. He only intervened if he had an idea that he thought would improve their chances or reduce the number of soldiers they lost in each battle. As much as he’d been forced to harden himself to the inescapable truth that people were going to die, he never stopped trying to keep those numbers as low as possible.So, it didn’t come as a surprise when the battle proceeded more or less the way he expected it to. His armies didn’t suffer nearly the number of casualties the enemy generals hoped for early in the battle. That helped to offset the loss of morale that came with those kinds of losses. It came with the side benefit of disheartening the soldiers on the other side. As it became increasingly obvious that his armies would win, he could almost feel the despair settle over the city. Then, the order came. The soldiers withdrew and threw down their weapons. The generals presented themselves to him. This was so familiar it had become almost boring.

Of course, the royalty and the nobles didn’t present themselves. Nor did the city’s cultivators. They never did. They imagined themselves beyond such trivialities as the unconditional surrender of the army that protected them. They imagined that they were special.

“Lord Lu,” said one of his mortal generals, “the city is yours.”

“Not yet,” said Sen. “But soon enough.”

“Lord Lu?” asked the general.

“The city won’t be his until the royalty and the cultivators submit,” said Master Feng, walking up to stand next to Sen.

The general frowned and said, “Will they?”

“They will,” said Sen. “They always do in the end. Once they understand their situation. Maybe, this time, it won’t take quite as much bloodshed for them to understand.”

“Do you think that’s likely?” asked Master Feng.

“No. But I can hope,” said Sen.

“I hope that you’re not putting too much into that,” answered the elder cultivator.

Sen gave his master a bleak smile before turning to the general.

“Assemble what you feel is an appropriate number of troops to accompany me to the palace and guard it. I’d rather not be disturbed while I have a chat with the leaders of—” Sen hesitated. “What is the name of this city? For that matter, what is the name of this kingdom?”

“Will it matter after today?” asked Master Feng.

Sen managed to keep his grimace on the inside when he said, “I suppose it won’t. General, you have your orders.”

“Yes, Lord Lu.”